Yo, I'm David ^^ Nicknamed Davs/Shadow/Sypher//whatever you want to call me!

You probably won't want to read my life story, but if you do, here it is. My name is David, I'm 16 years old, and my birthday is June 25th. When I was born, my parents were going to name me Forest, then they switched it to Christopher, and finally decided on David. When I was two years old, I fell onto a tile floor and my teeth went through my lip, giving me a little scarring there. When I was three, my dad left his razor out and I tried THAT, giving me some scarring on my upper lip. Hah, you think this stuff is bad, just wait.

When I was four years old, my closest friend threw a hockey stick at me, splitting my eyebrow open. The next week, the same friend (Luke) made a rumor that I threatened him with death by knife. So, I was taken to the office, expelled from the school.. They even went to the trouble of making blurred (By which I mean fake) footage of me beating the shit out of some kid by a flag pole. I lost all of my friends except one: Gourav. He stayed with me to the end! (and I haven't seen the bugger in 10 years, he's been WAY too busy. His family owns a restaurant called "The GM Restaurant" in maple ridge, near 232nd street). After that, I became isolated, which helped in my developing of a second personality. His name is Aero, he likes chicken, he's 19 years old, and very shy. At that time, my parents moved and I got to be a whole new person. I met new friends, and my bestie from the group (Brodie) just so happened to be Luke's cousin. At this time, I was about 9, so he was smart enough to know that a 4 year old wasn't capable of making major death threats, but his mum never saw me in a nice light, so, I never got to hang around with Brodie. I became the little kid of the school, was beat up all the time, called names, and stolen from.

Then when I was Seven, I went and visited my grandpa. Grandpa art is one of those people who will actually take time out of his 'interactions' at grown up parties, even to play a game a snap with you. He was sick with cancer, and we had to go visit him. While I was shaving his head for the therapy he was doing, he flatlined, right infront of me.

When I became 12, I realized this all had to stop. I got a nickname, new friends, new school, hell, I even changed my personality. I don't know what it was about Middle School, but the people there just seemed a lot more understanding, and nicer! I became friends with Tyler (Sky) Lear McAuley. Best guy to have as a friend, if you can have him as one.. worst guy to have as an enemy.
(I'm putting this in here to make sure nobody cheats: send me a message if you read the whole thing, and I'll.. I dunno, do something, write something in your comments or something.) ANYWAYS, my Middle school years went perfectly... Then I got into High school, and Sky moved away. I don't see much of him, but his stand-in is Kenny Milledge, a HILARIOUS guy, who can always cheer you up in a jiff. So, I hung around with Kenny a lot.

Now, I'm 16, and life is amazing to live. Call me emo, punk, faggot, prick, loser.. Anything you want, but I won't care, because I'm happy. And that's it, nothing more to it.

" Once there was a boy, When the boy turned six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. 'Falcons are raptors -- killing birds,' his father told him, 'the hunters of the sky'. The falcon didn't like the boy, and the boy didn't like it either. It's sharp beak made him nervous, and it's bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. It would slash at him with its beak and talons when the boy came near; for weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn't know it, but his father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for nearly a year, and thus it was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because his father told him to make the falcon obedient; and he wanted to please his father.

He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing it music, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to his wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it -- instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked it's wings, willing it to trust him. He fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later, it ate so savagely that its beak would tear at the skin on his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if it meant the bird had to consume his blood to do so.

He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed needed for flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dove for the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he nearly shouted with delight. Sometimes the bird would hop to his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew the falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not only tamed, but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he had done.

Instead of congratulating the boy, his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and snapped its neck. 'I told you to make it obedient,' his father said, and dropped the falcons corpse to the ground. 'Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: they are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.'

Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to retrieve its lifeless body and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he learned: To love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed."